There are pornographic videos of Kintner on his state computer. Honey, I have seen Kintner and you could not pay me to look at those videos. If you held a gun to my head I’d just have to die. If you threatened me with a flea infested goat living in my house, I’d just have to call him Honey and get get some itch powder.

Now here’s the fun part. Nebraska Republican Governor Sweet Pete Ricketts has known about it for a year and said nothing. Not one damn word. The Gov says he couldn’t comment because of “an ongoing investigation.” Yeah, right.

Sen. Bob Krist, chairman of the Legislature’s Executive Committee, said he alerted Ricketts’ chief of staff, Matt Miltenberger, last year about a sexual video involving Kintner.

Krist said he told Miltenberger that one of the Legislature’s junior senators had been solicited online by someone offering to sell the senator an explicit video involving Kintner.

Yeah, and the junior senator said the same thing I did. No, thank you.

So, here we are with a state senator who has made a sex tape of himself and Lord only knows who else but if that flea carrying goat is in it, I’m gonna gonna throw a fit right here on the spot. Think of the people who knew and have been extorting him all year.

Look, Governor, you know as well as I do that a state senator in your back pocket is far more valuable than honesty or decency. You knew. You just rolled in it like it was a bail of goose down and now you’re gonna have to walk away with only the quack.

Is it just me or has the leader in LGBTQ rights has evolved to become the United States Military?

The navy has decided to name a ship after Harvey Milk, a navy veteran.

The news came in a report published by the U.S. Naval Institute, citing a notification sent to Congress earlier this month by Secretary of the Navy Ray Mabus, signaling his intention to name a Military Sealift Command fleet oiler after Milk. The Navy has not officially confirmed the plan.

I mean, here’s the United States military leading the gay right fight. Hell, in North Carolina, they can’t even go the bathroom.

The woman on the Right is a naturalized citizen who, once she emigrated from her native Slovenia, took a job no American is willing to do – bearing Donald Trump’s spawn. She has not been seen since plagiarizing Michelle Obama’s speech in honor of Barack to extol her last H-1B sponsor and current husband, a cretinous Orange-a-Tan. Her fake resume website claiming a degree in “architecture and design” has also disappeared from public view.

The woman on the Left is my Congresswoman from Ohio’s Third District, whom I am proud to have voted for every time I’ve seen her name on a ballot. She has a Masters in Psychology, sits on the Financial Services Committee in the US House of Representatives, and knows how to dial plagiarism up to “Fierce!”

It was Hillary’s best of times; it was Trump’s worst of times. It was the age of wisdom of years of service; it was the age of foolishness of a wasted life. It was the epoch of belief in each other and our country; it was the epoch of the incredulity of otherwise credulous cretins. It was the season of beaming Light to the world; it was the season of fearing Darkness from the world. It was the spring of continued hope; it was the climate-denying winter of despair. We had everything before us; we had nothing before us because our greatness was behind us. We were all going direct to Heaven, led by a North Carolina preacher; we were all going direct the other way, taken there by a demon with imp’s hands.

Donald Trump looks at the world and sees enemies to flee, allies to flout, patsies to fleece and strong men to flatter. His convention reflected that, offering a way out of a dark labyrinth of terror that exists only in the fevered brains of a dwindling minority of cranks looking to regain the hegemony that chance and circumstance had devolved upon authoritarian white males through centuries of dungeon, fire and sword.

But in spite of dungeon, fire and sword, Hillary’s convention extolled the Faith of our Mothers and our Fathers, the creed that was written – to borrow a phrase – into the founding documents that declared the destiny of a Nation. “All folks are created equal,” she seemed to say, “let us show you.”

Yes, we can.

After the myopic, dystopic, frantic and frenetic Republican worldview on display in Trump’s Cleveland cacophony, the Democratic National Convention in Philadelphia was a soothing and soaring symphony. Early disunity and the Debbie Wasserman Schultz kerfuffle could almost have been scripted, as they provided a jarring contrapuntal chord to start the piece. But harmonious moments through all four movements of the four nights, with only brief callbacks from hecklers in the vomitorium, made a decidedly prose candidate seem like Euterpe, the Muse of music, so that even her typically prosaic, cough-punctuated speech transcended her creaky voice to become a noble crescendo with depth, gravitas and the power to make walls come a-tumblin’ down.

Kudos to whomever designed this convention. As in every other aspect of this campaign, it showed how a professional, prepared candidacy can out-think, outmaneuver, and outfight a loud-mouthed palooka with a weak left, a slow right and an orange, glass jaw. Hillary and the Democrats hit him with Left uppercuts, Right hooks and jabs from the Center. Trump got worked in his corner, her corner, and the center of the ring. He never laid a glove on her, but he did manage to stop most of her punches with his face.

This is more than a tale of two conventions, however. We have now set the foundation for the remaining hundred days to this campaign, as well as the next four years of American history. The word has gone forth; there is a new philosophy in America, for a new American Century, and it is this: in a world beset by strife, in a nation benighted by indifference, in an election bedeviled by rage…

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About

Welcome to The World's Most Dangerous Beauty Salon, Inc.

My name is Susan DuQuesnay Bankston. I live in Richmond, Texas, in the heart of Tom DeLay's old district. It's nuttier than squirrel poop here.

I am honored and privileged to know Miss Juanita Jean Herownself, hairdresser extraordinary and political maven. Since she does not have time to fiddle with this internet stuff, I type her website for her and you can read it if you want to. If you don't, she truly does not give a big bear's butt.

A lot of what I post here has to do with local politics, but you probably have the same folks in your local government.

This ain't a blog. Blogs are way too trendy for me. This is a professional political organization.